Memories: A Series of Stories About their Distance
by crookedsmile
Summary: A soldier of lost love in the midst of chaos during the Pacific war tries to regain his life back. But the war isn't over yet for him as he discovers a world separating him and his bride. A story told in Athrun Zala's POV.
1. Chapter 1

**This is dedicated to Miss PersephoneLee, Inuloverforeva, and to my colleague who discovered my identity in …**

**Chapter I: Soliloquy (Prelude)**

It was my first assignment as a member of the military enlisted personnel. The time was early spring, when the eastern infantry battalion was called to the northern regions of the Shiribeshi subprefecture to defend the remaining military headquarters in the port of Otaru against allies of the _west._

When the _USAAF _(United States Army Air Forces) began its counter-attack against the Japanese army in the Pacific, atomic warfare has delivered defeat to my country. The B-29s have decided the end for us.

The year was 1945 A.D.

My first day in the battlefield was a nightmare in all sense. After a 1-month period of training and battle simulations, we were sent to back up the remaining defensive units stationed at Otaru. When the news of the attack came to us, it was vague if the military detachment even withstood the two-day assault because no data on casualties and extent of damage reported, though it was known that they have more men for disposal and bigger stores of arsenal than the east and west infantry bases.

According to the commanding officer, it was an emergency "back up" mission, just to ensure that the enemy won't reach the city of Sapporo, _if_ the assaults persisted. We were about two hundred in number. Most of us were rookies who never killed anyone, and our group has a limited capability of launching a counter-attack. Therefore, everyone assumed that the situation was still under control.

It was only when we arrived that the truth became clear: they weren't able to keep the enemy at bay.

During the transport, I had a chance to take a glimpse outside. Though it was early spring, the supposedly blue sky appeared to be consumed by fire. Stretching from the coast of _Ishikari Bay_ to the borders of _Soranumadake, _the panorama was all tinted with crimson.

I closed my eyes and held the rifle close to my chest. We were standing side by side in a type-60 carrier, like a colony of frozen ants.

As we enter the borders, gunfire was everywhere. We avoided narrow roads and travelled on the highway to avoid being ambushed. If we get attacked, at least we can spread apart fight back.

I heard the sounds as they get nearer. I held my breath, and waited for the orders.

At that time, we were almost on the end of the bunker when deafening explosions destroyed almost half of our unit. Projectile-fired grenades had anticipated our arrival.

The enemy has indeed past the defence lines and was already inching their way to the base.

All I remembered was I was running away from the burning carrier together with a few who survived the explosions.

* * *

As everything went to confusion, I heard the commanding officer call out for us to re-group. Bullets were flying by, hitting us one by one. Some of them hit heads, some hit arms and legs. All I can see was blood and along with it, falling corpses, whole-bodied and decapitated.

Soon the nightmare begun for me.

I was able to hide on the safer side of the trench with the other soldiers. One of us was wounded on the left leg and the other, a punctured abdomen.

The rush of blood overwhelmed my consciousness and I can feel my throat constrict. I know that I had to fire back and defend myself in the least.

Then the crossfire began. Some of the enemy were slowly approaching on the north side, while others coming from the east. The proximity was nearer in the east side so the commanding officer ordered us to fire those in the east with machine guns. It was my first time to use a _type 92. _I was accustomed in just using an ordinary rifle, but when faced with a situation such as this, heavy machine guns such as _type 92 _could save your life. Those who come from on the north were best dealt with _type 38 _cannons and mortars.

The first time I pulled the trigger, I was able to set a helmet flying. I had just killed an enemy… I blew off his head. My hands were shaking as my eyes trailed where that bullet has landed. But as soon as I fired again, I felt the loss on fear and the loss of control.

The fighter planes have not arrived yet, I suspected. They must have thought this operation would be easy, that we could be eliminated with conventional combat.

Fires spread from the burning trucks on the backside of the trench. Some men were caught in it for it was difficult to climb over the other side while shielding oneself from the rain of ammunitions. As a consequence, more men were trapped within the line of fire and it consumed them alive. The smell of burning human flesh, mixed with damp winds carrying dust and gunpowder was nauseating.

This will be a long ordeal, I told myself.

Most of us were fighting on foot. In these situations, ground combat is necessary for one can easily be targeted with highly explosive weapons when riding on a type 1 _Chi-He_ or a carrier.

I was reloading my machine gun with another round of bullets, when I saw a wounded soldier come near me.

He propped himself on a small stack of rubble, a few feet from my position. His side was covered with blood, both fresh and dried. From the bloodstain on his uniform, one can conclude that his insides have been damaged by a large bullet, probably coming from a machine gun.

He was screaming in agony so I went to him. The wound was large and bleeding profusely. Pallor took over him as the bleeding persisted.

I took off my jacket and pressed it on the wound, hoping to slow down the bleeding, but as soon as my uniform touches the opening on his side, it soon became damp with his blood. I realized by looking at him, that he is of a different _military class_.

"You're name… please," he said with a great deal off difficulty.

I had spoken, but I haven't heard any voice coming out.

"Private _Athrun Zala_ sir…"

It's as is my throat was still constricted.

But he heard what I have said.

He paused for a while, after hearing my words. Then coughed violently once more, spitting out more blood.

"We have been defending _the zone_ for 48 hours, but it looks like it's over."

I could barely hear him, for another explosion occurred on the east side of the trench.

"We could no longer hold out… and the back-up's been stalling," he continued.

I held him as he coughed continuously, while my eyes searched around for my officer.

This man must be saved.

He may receive first aid if I retreat to the farther side of the zone, where my seniors are stationed.

No commanding officer, nor a single medic, could help me if I stayed then, I couldn't leave my post. It would be a breach of military protocol if one leaves his post.

And then I heard distress calls: calls for retreat.

But we could no longer retreat. We went there as reinforcements, but it was obvious that we're outnumbered and on the verge on defeat.

Then the wounded soldier spoke once more.

"Seven… or even more… troupes of have landed last night. The fleet came from the Siberian Peninsula. If we lose the HQ, then the region is already defenceless."

He pulled something out of his pocket. A piece of cloth rolled with a thin string.

"Guard this… with your life…"

He handed the blood-stained object to me.

"Never open it," he added.

"Don't tell anyone that you have it, except your commanding officer. If you survive through this… give it to him. If you get caught by the enemy, destroy it."

He gave those orders to me, and I only had to nod in approval.

"Yes sir," I replied.

I took a glimpse at his uniform once more and read his nameplate.

A _Lieutenant Colonel_.

He had a special role in the army. From the way he looked, it's as if he had been in the battlefield all his life.

And then I glanced at the thing he gave me.

This could be a confidential document about a fight plan, or a military tactic. It could be a blueprint of the base, or an agreement.

I wasn't even sure. And from his instructions, it was clear that I shouldn't attempt to know what it was, even if this object could cost my life.

I could've sworn I saw tears in his eyes when he took his last breath.

And so he died.

I held the piece of cloth with my left hand, and closed his eyes with my right.

It was a little too late for me to say a prayer, for a bullet struck the edge of my forehead.

All I remembered was the feeling of being scorched. And then I lost consciousness.

* * *

_It was a dream… but everything was real_.

The patches of my memory drifted as my mind floated between the realm of the living and the dead.

_Plums of spring blossom_

_Healing tears of the blue sky_

_The pain of a scar_

I saw my father in his deathbed. I was thirteen years old when he passed away, and mom followed, a year after.

The sight of him, holding my hand and smiling at me as if he was only going away for a while, made me let go. I couldn't remember crying in his funeral. Just fixed my eyes on the cold granite tomb where he was laid...

He is a nationalist, and wanted me to pursue a career in the army. It was unexpected that he died of cholera, leaving my mother in the depths of depression. She committed suicide because of loneliness. Took a large dose of Phenobarbital.

Being part of the emerging war is none of my concern, and I have lived a rather normal childhood. I came from a middle-class family of _Ume Shu _(plum wine) makers. The business had been a tradition, and I planned to continue what father had been doing in his short lifetime.

However, when the war broke out, my life took a sudden turn...

The government required every male citizen from age 20-50 to join the military.

I've enlisted in the armed forces, left home and the one I'm supposed to _marry..._

* * *

It was early Sunday morning when a man came to my house. He was my father's childhood friend. He came to _give_ his daughter to me, saying that the marriage has been decided even before we were born.

"…_She has the hands of a farmer… She'll be a useful wife. Your father and I sealed an agreement that our first-born children be married,"_ the man said to me.

My eyes riveted on her.

A brown-eyed lady dressed in a blue _yukata_, solemnly bowed as her father begs for my approval.

Her eyes were avoiding me. She appeared to be neither happy nor regretful.

"_You came to here to see me, and oblige that I marry your daughter, whom I haven't even met." _My words were plain and straightforward.

"_She will no longer be useful to anyone but you…I cannot afford to have her anymore, I beg of you…"_

Sure enough I felt despise for the man and pity for her daughter.

"_How old is she?"_

"_Twenty-three, the same age as yours…"_ the man replied.

She remained standing, as I stepped forward and took a closer look at her.

"_Do you agree with your father's wish?"_ I asked.

For the first time I was able to see those marvellous eyes, staring right though me.

I suddenly thought of the sun.

"_I shall not dishonour my father's name, sir, nor shall I go against his wish,"_ a deep toned voice came out of her lips.

I've heard her whisper her name, but my consciousness was coming back. I was being sucked out of this dream…

* * *

I choked a mouthful of air, as I tried to recall her name on the depths of my mind.

I opened my eyes.

Sunset rays penetrated my eyelids and I felt my pupils constrict. Pain radiated from the corner of my forehead, as I felt blood coming out of it.

I was knocked unconscious for almost five hours.

Beside me was the _lieutenant colonel _I've spoken with before I got shot down. He lay on the pile of rubble -dead in the cold afternoon.

I stayed on the ground for a while, absorbing everything that transpired from this encounter but I couldn't remember everything fully, except that piece of cloth which I still feel between my hands.

_Is the battle over?_

I wasn't even certain if I'm still alive. But the noises have dwindled. No explosions, no gunfire.

I could almost here nothing, except my own breath…

* * *

The sky…

I was staring at the vast blood-stained sky.

Nostalgia struck me once again...

It was the day before I left for the army, and we were resting beneath the plum trees. Her head nestled on my lap, with her eyes closed.

"_Will you come back?"_

"_Of course I will," _I absentmindedly replied. I was preoccupied with feeling her hair spilled against my skin. And then I gazed at the indigo-coloured sky.

"_If I don't return, you'll have everything I own for yourself,"_ I pledged.

"_The house?"_

"_Yes, the house…"_

"_And the farm?"_

"_Yes…"_

"_The plum trees will be waiting…"_

"_Really?"_ I laughed.

"_If you don't return, the wine will be sour and…"_

"_And?"_

She said nothing. I didn't tell her the truth, that I joined the army to escape our marriage. But then I was never ready to send her away, back to her father.

"_We'll get married, when I come back,"_ I finished.

Still, she didn't say anything.

White plum petals floated with the soft breeze and some settled onto her pale skin.

She stood up and looked at me.

I was gazing at those eyes once more.

"_Tell me Athrun, will you come back?"_

* * *

Remembering her amidst the chaos of this battlefield, I knew I already have the answer.

"Of course, I will… I will!" I shouted.

And then, there were tears.

I cried, and then after realizing that it was stupid to cry over a girl when I'm already dying, I laughed.

I must have gone crazy. I could still feel the throbbing pain on my forehead.

Desperation and regret, those were my emotions.

"I will come back, Cagalli," I muttered. Then I closed my eyes once more,anticipating my doom.

But as soon as I finished my monologue, I felt something being pointed against my head.

"Stand up," a voice ordered.

It took a while for the command to sink in, but then I couldn't possibly retaliate. I awkwardly stood up and immediately tucked the cloth beneath my sleeve. Then raised both my hands.

"Don't worry I'm not an enemy," the voice declared.

I turned and saw a man wearing a flying suit, a life vest, and a prayer belt.

A _kamikaze_ pilot – I assumed.

"I came here to save you..."

* * *

"Kira Yamato," he said, while extending his arm to me.

I too, introduced myself to him.

"I believe you have something with you.." he said meaningfully.

He must have seen _it_, I thought.

"Could you take me to your officer?" I diverted.

He paused for a while. He got a pack of cigarettes, lit one with his left hand, while holding the revolver with his right.

"We have _no_ more officers my friend. All the troupes have been taken away as prisoners."

He offered the cigarette to me. I took one and smoked.

Then my head throbbed once again.

"You're losing blood. We'd better get out of here and have _that_ fixed," he remarked while pointing at my blasted forehead.

"Where are they taking the prisoners?" I asked.

"To Sapporo I guess," Kira replied.

He went to the dead man lying a few feet from us.

"He's an intelligence officer." He lit one cigar and laid it on the corpse.

Then he turned to me.

"We have to go and deliver _that_ message from the Lieutenant. We're good as dead if we don't."

**AN: This is an original story. I have used GSD characters, but it's not about GSD. All accounts about WWII are fictional. The scenarios here are independent of what happened in History and I'm not Japanese, so pardon me if you find incorrect details.**

**Now, I appreciate if you drop some reviews…**


	2. Operation Downfall

**Operation Downfall**

**

* * *

  
**

The year was 1945.

It was a miracle that I survived the gunshot. A single millimetre could've ended it all for me, but it didn't. What was left on my forehead was a walnut-sized gash, and inside my pocket, was the secret military order from a dead man.

It was almost sundown when we began our journey to Sapporo; uncertain if luck would be on our side.

The pilot named Kira led the way. He walked briskly without faltering while I trailed behind him.

Our goal was to reach an "intact" military camp, or at least we hoped to see one in spite of the apparent downfall of the operations in Otaru. I on the other hand, had an extra mission of delivering the message from the Lieutenant Colonel.

My wound was almost dry, covered by congealed blood, and I've already recovered from the slight head trauma. Perhaps it was due to the temperature drop that I felt quite numb.

It was early spring and the wind was cold and moist. Without food and water, we walked non-stop but still unable to reach the main road.

Sapporo is not that far, however we couldn't risk our lives by going straight ahead, for danger was always nearby, concealed by the approaching darkness.

While walking, I couldn't help but to ask the pilot.

"How did you get through the battle?"

He grunted, spat on the grassy earth, and answered. "I know I'm _supposed_ to die, but I refused to. You know what I mean? We were trained to blast our plane straight through the enemy, take them to hell with us, but that didn't happen to me."

He paused for a while. We both decided to have a brief rest. The terrain was still fresh from the earlier combat, with the dark grey smoke, still visible from our position, though we've walked quite far.

Scattered flames from detonated carriers lit up the desolate area.

"I lost two engines while flying above the bunker. It must be a long-range missile fired on the ground that hit my wings. My pane nose-dived but I was lucky enough to escape the cockpit and activate my parachute," Kira continued.

"How about you?" he turned to me.

"How did you get shot? Don't get me wrong," he laughed. "Are you half-conscious or what? How did you let someone shoot you like that? You should've known that someone was close enough to shoot your head."

"I was talking to the man you've seen earlier," I replied, referring to the Lieutenant.

"The Lieutenant must've said something to you," Kira stated.

I thought of diverting the conversation to refrain him from asking more about the secret message given to me, but judging from the way he looked, I supposed he's not a spy or a traitor. If he was, then he could've forced me to disclose the message, given that I'm wounded, which gives him a big advantage if he would physically challenge me.

So I got the piece of cloth out of my pocket and showed it to him.

"I thought so," he said. "But it's not a good thing to show a secret message to anyone, especially if it's not intended for them," he lectured. "But you're not in the military, I understand."

"I _am_ now," I countered.

"An enlisted civilian, that's a proper thing to call you," Kira corrected.

He lit another cigarette, and handed me a stick.

We haven't had anything to eat. Smoking is effective in compensating hunger.

"Why did you do it?" Kira asked.

"You mean, why did I come here?" I asked.

He nodded.

"I wanted to escape," I said briefly. "Escape my upcoming marriage."

"That's suicide! Is your fiancée that ugly?" A short laugh came out of him. Clear smoke drained out of his nostrils.

"Perhaps, yes. And NO, she's not ugly."

"And you want to go back to her after seeing this battlefield of shit right?"

I inhaled another dose of smoke.

"She was given to me. I had to marry her because of some agreement made between our parents. When our relatives insisted on me marrying her right away, I felt confused. So I volunteered to join the army. I didn't want her to expect that much from me. "

"So you ran away."

"Yes."

There was silence after that.

Kira sat on a pile of rubble, removed his prayer belt and spoke.

"My fiancée was a preschool teacher. We both came from Kansai. After becoming a pilot, I never had a chance to go back home. It was only last week that I found out about her settling in Izu. Apparently, her parents found a more suitable man. That's rather unfair for me, isn't it? I'm good as dead, because I took this job, do you understand me?"

His words reflected anger and sorrow.

I knew exactly what he meant. I chose to fight in a war, out of thoughtlessness. I left Cagalli for I thought it was the right decision: to buy some time while I sort out my own feeling of indecisiveness. But now, the consequences slapped me right in the face. I realized that I have to go back.

Our country's situation is getting dire with the invasion of Otaru, and perhaps, Sapporo. Tokyo could be next, one of these days, for sure. I was worried about her.

But Kira is on a dead-end situation. At least I have someone waiting for me, unlike him. If he dies, no one will carry on his will and cry on his grave.

It was a dreadful reality for this man.

"Have you read the message?" he diverted.

"No."

"Why don't you do it? If we get caught and die, at least we know the reason," he said coolly.

He's right. I shouldn't consider myself to be luckier. If we get caught, then we're both dead, and it didn't matter if Cagalli was waiting for me and no one's awaiting him. If the enemy gets us, we'll both have the inevitable ending.

* * *

I untangled to string coiled around the piece of cloth and read the contents. It was a series of instructions: How to get to Tokyo after invading the nearby towns, how many reinforcements from the South would come and what to do with the prisoners of war. All came from a foreign general stationed at Mongolia intended for the enemy troupes based at Manchuria. It was an intercepted message, probably through radio waves. The message was encoded three days ago. It was entitled: Operation Downfall.

I handed it over to Kira.

He read it, and afterwards, crumpled the cloth, showing his disappointment.

"They had this information, yet still persisted on defending Otaru, a small nondescript base! Those bastards."

"I know. We were sacrificed to reduce the enemy numbers," I agreed.

The practical move could've been to concentrate the defensive forces on the bases situated near the densely populated cities. Otaru is a small town and was long vacated by civilians due to the Siberian offensive forces. The military detachment stationed there should've been called back, (at least half of its defensive forces) to protect the nearby town, Sapporo. Conversely, they sent a number of reinforcements, including us, enlisted civilians, to defend a falling base. But then, who are we to question? Who are we to tell them that they're gravely mistaken?

The series of B29 attacks and the recent bombing of Hiroshima somehow made our officials desperate. Regrouping is quite impossible, especially if the enemy's right in front of you.

"This message should've been delivered before the _Allies _landed here but it took them three days to relay the message, from a careless Lieutenant to an _enlisted _civilian like you!"

The _kamikaze_ pilot was obviously furious.

"They must've trusted the base in Otaru, or underestimated the _Allies_. If this message never reaches Sapporo, then let's hope they've had a duplicate passed on to another individual." I concluded.

It was only later when I found out that copies of the same message were given to other soldiers, and that, I would not be escaping the danger that awaits us. That only I would be reaching Sapporo.

* * *

I woke up to the sound of a loud thud on my right knee. I was sure that we didn't make any fire, or do anything to be noticed by the enemy, but when I awoke, I saw three foreign soldiers; two of them were staring down at me and the other one, holding a long rifle. He was the one who hit my knees. I couldn't find Kira anywhere. He must've been taken away. I suddenly remembered the secret message.

Before taking a nap, we've decided to bury it on a nearby patch of earth, and retrieve it at daybreak. We anticipated _this_, yet I still felt the fear: A great deal of fear.

The two men ordered me to strip off my clothes. I did obey them and removed my vest, uniform, and my boots. Then they tied me up and hauled me away. The cold air pierced my skin and I felt numbness and pain as they struck my half-naked body.

Someone was leading the way, while the other two were walking beside me, one of them pointing a rifle against my ribcage.

I heard them speak, but couldn't understand a single word. I suspected that they're Mongolian.

We arrived at a small camp, and I saw Kira lying on top of a wooden bench. He was half-naked too. They tied his arms on one side of the bench, while his feet were also tied on the other end.

The others in camp became busy inspecting our garments. They spoke with chilling voices, laughing and then throwing glances at the two of us. Kira's eyes were swollen. His face had a large diagonal incision, most probably done by a pocket knife.

Someone came out of the cottage and mockingly greeted us.

"Banzai!"

Then he went towards me. He was a Caucasian, perhaps Russian. A high-ranking official.

He spoke to me in his native tongue. I understood a little because I was able to study a number of international languages back in college.

"You are at a great disadvantage here my friend," he said. "I suspect you have something with you, which needs to be surrendered – to me."

I looked away, as if I couldn't understand him.

One of the Mongolian soldiers took his rifle and forced it on my ribcage. It was so painful, that I jerked away with a faltering sigh.

My head began to throb once more. I knew that my head wounds started to bleed again. I struggled to get up.

My eyes checked on Kira for he remained silent on the bench. He's still alive at that moment.

The Caucasian spoke once more.

"You know, we could do anything we want. We don't care if we're stepping on your soil. You're a prisoner now. Not even your people can save you."

He whistled towards a man who got out of the cottage holding a scalpel. He signalled him to go to Kira.

"You see, he's a merciless guy," the officer told me. "Allow me to demonstrate how barbaric he is, by using your friend."

The man holding a scalpel approached Kira, held his face with one hand, and stuck the knife beneath Kira's ear. It was a spine-chilling sound that came out of Kira.

The officer spoke: "The man loves peeling apples, and sheepskin, and human skin sometimes."

He smiled; something warped was on his mind.

Kira looked into my eyes sternly, as if ordering me to refrain from surrendering. He had a face of a man ready to face death, to that I hold the highest regard, and so I've decided to that I would not give them what they want, even if they torture me.

The barbarian torturer relished it all: He first peeled of the ears, and then removed the scalp. Kira refused to say anything. All that I heard from him were cries of agony, being dismembered in such a slow pace.

I vomited upon seeing his corpse like a formless lump of flesh. My hands trembled and my ears were ringing. I was on the verge of insanity.

For the second time, I thought about death.

* * *

I thought about Cagalli.

She was probably sleeping right now, or writing a letter. She didn't know that I've been moved here. How could she know? I only wrote to her once.

I remembered her last words, asking me if I'd come back for her. But how can I?

She could've been taken by the enemy.

How can I save her?

My head felt like exploding. I charged towards the man standing right next to me. The man landed on the ground and I was able to seize the knife that fell from his hands using my mouth, and thrust it down his throat...

The official stepped backwards, while all the others were aiming to shoot me.

Then he spoke: "Don't waste a bullet on him. You've had your fun, now let him die slowly."

Two men grabbed me by the arm and threw me beside Kira's corpse.

I received another blow and was knocked unconscious.

* * *

I woke up later, and the sun was high up. My hands were still tied, and beside me, was my friend's lifeless form. To him, I offered a prayer.

The enemies have left

The scalpel that was used to dismember Kira was within reach. It was soaked with Kira's blood. I crawled towards it, used my teeth to hold the object and slowly sliced the rope tied around my hands.

Without food and water for more than a day, my strength dwindled until I couldn't even bury my teeth onto the scalpel's handle.

Desperation, fear, pain.

How do these feelings compensate a dying body?

I continued until the last string starts to unwind.

I was free...

I took the clothes of the man I killed earlier, and began marching down an unknown path.

I have to go back and save Cagalli. I have lived for that sole purpose.

* * *

**AN: First of all, the historic accounts do not have any realistic basis (to some extent). All circumstances are fictional. And Apologies for it was a gruesome chapter. I adore Kira, and it pains me to write about him suffering a morbid death.**


	3. Empty

_Dear Athrun,_

_I hope you're in good condition when this letter reaches you. It's been two months since you've left, and things haven't changed here. They say that the war will be over. The emperor has ordered the retreat for the soldiers overseas and negotiations will take place soon. This is good news indeed! They might let you return home after the decree has been lifted…_

_The plum trees must have sensed your absence. The fruits have been pale, and the wine, sour. Whenever I feel lonely, I always think about you. How hard your life must be, and I can't bear the thought._

_I have asked myself a lot of times. I have wondered, was it me that caused you to leave? Was it because of the marriage?_

_I don't want to cause you anymore inconvenience. If you decide not to marry me, then I'll return to my father. I know he'll understand. But if you want me to stay here and work for you then would appreciate it. Your aunt told me that I might be causing your confusion, that's why you left. I know it's too late now, but if you ever find a chance, please come back, even if it means the end of our engagement…_

_I just want you to come back._

_

* * *

_

Half-conscious and dehydrated, I walked until I've reached the outskirts of Sapporo. I could see dark smoke coming from the train station. Everywhere, the remnants of war were evident.

Blocks of concrete from torn buildings, tattered remains of houses, people with blank faces, searching of food, or for a dead loved one; the acrid smell of blood and gun powder.

It occurred to me that the Allies have taken full control of the city.

I tried to hide my identity from the foreign soldiers roaming around the place. I stayed within the ruins of a small shop. It used to be a book shop, but the books were all gone. The sign was blown away, and the whole place was filled with debris and ash.

Perhaps because of hunger and tiredness, that I lacked the sense of focus. My feet faltered as I tried to regain my posture and collapsed on a nearby concrete block. Among the debris of wood and broken glass, was a piece of stale bread. I grabbed it with my trembling hands. The bread had molds on it, but I didn't mind. I chewed and swallowed, like it was the most wonderful meal I've had.

I remained where I was for a while, but it felt like days for me. I fell asleep.

When I awoke, my head felt a little lighter. Somehow, I felt my wounds have stopped hurting. The hunger was gone too.

I immediately stood and left.

My goal was to reach the train station, and ride back to Tokyo. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I have come this far. I wouldn't waste any chances.

I have to go back.

It was her letter that kept my sanity. In two days, I've seen more blood that anyone can imagine. A comrade was dismembered in front of me. His skin, peeled off like an apple. He refused to die as a pilot, and somehow, chose his own death in the hands of a barbarian. If he hadn't been with me, I could have been the one who was tortured.

I kept on recalling the contents of Cagalli's letter. I have a picture it in my mind-her long, precise handwriting. I felt deep regret, for I had not sent my response.

Now, all I wanted is a train ride. My sole purpose is to be with her again, before this world around us crumble and burn to the ground. I knew about the impending peril that awaits Tokyo. I couldn't stay here any longer. The Allies will move, in a day or two.

By now, the remaining troupes at Osaka may still have the strength, but not for long. The enemies have already landed on our shores. The next target would be the capital, Tokyo.

* * *

It was late afternoon when I decided to head for the station. Stealthily, I made my way from one road to another, hiding whenever I see the enemy, and then walking further. Some people would notice me and perhaps think I'm one of the enemy soldiers. Most of the civilians I saw were survivors of the invasion. I knew the government ordered an evacuation prior to my dispatch for Otaru military base.

But then it was possible that the last wave of evacuees were trapped when the enemy forces came, and left with no choice but to stay.

So far, luck was on my side. I was able to reach the main road, and trace my way towards the train station.

When I arrived at the place, only one train was left intact. Majority of the people there were refugees from nearby towns, desperately trying to secure a ride. There were soldiers everywhere, but they didn't care much about the chaos going on amongst the people.

I had my shirt removed so people won't suspect my identity, as I moved past the swarm of people scrambling towards the train.

I saw an old lady, shoved aside by some townspeople and was trampled by the swarm of scurrying bodies.

All are in panic and confusion. The woman died instantly, perhaps of suffocation. Perhaps of hopelessness.

This is the path that I have chosen, I spoke to myself.

This is the society war has created.

Our war.

I drew a deep breath and moved forward. I have to reach Tokyo, and this train will lead me there, I told myself.

Someone shouted at me.

"You!"

I ignored the call and continued forward.

But the voice called out once more. I walked faster hoping to avoid the impending encounter with an enemy soldier.

I turned and saw a tall man behind me. He grabbed me and asked if I'm a soldier.

I denied, but didn't look at his eyes. I pretended to look dumb.

He pointed his revolver against the gash on my forehead.

He suddenly shifted his language, from Japanese to English.

"You plan to escape eh? You scared huh? Wanna go home to your mama? Well shithead, you're gonna die here with your friends" he mockingly said.

I understood him. But I pretended to be confused.

_Escape._

_Yes I plan to escape, you bastard!_ - My mind shouted.

_I plan to save the woman I love from monsters like you…_

And so I have realized my own thoughts…

_The woman I love._

Not even the most insulting words can deter me. But at that moment, I knew I have to concede. Perhaps if I beg him, he'd let me go.

I knelt and spoke softly.

"Please let me go sir… I need to be with my wife."

The man laughed. He adjusted the barrel of his gun and spoke once more.

"You started this shit and now you're begging me? Do you know what happened to _us _when we got here? I LEFT MY WIFE AND KIDS! I'm so happy with my life, in MY country, and then this war comes along, suddenly I woke up on this shitty island hunting shitheads like you. And now you're asking me to let you go?"

I didn't speak anymore, for somehow I was able to understand him.

We brought this misery amongst ourselves. All I thought was my escape, but the reality of the situation is bigger. Bigger than my own personal endeavor.

He grabbed my shoulder and hauled me towards the station's office.

My feet were so heavy, that I felt myself crawling away from the train. I walked away farther and farther from the only chance I had.

* * *

When we reached the office, he pushed me towards the corner and I slammed against the glass panel.

My shoulder began to bleed, after being stabbed by the protruding debris of broken glass.

Another man came in and asked.

"What's this?"

The other man told him that I'm an additional prisoner.

"Why don't you just kill him? We have too many prisoners in this camp," the other man said.

"He begged me Dearka."

"He what?"

"Begged me. He wanted to go back to his wife."

The other man gave me a slight glance, and then he laughed out loud.

"I thought you guys are die hard fanatics! You kill yourselves for your Emperor right? "

He spoke in English. I answered.

"I am an enlisted civilian. Please sir, I know that our country has lost the war. I just want to go back and see if my wife is safe. This is a cowardly act, I know, but I have no choice. I simply don't want to waste my life away without even…" I couldn't finish my words.

I wasn't thinking rationally, coherently. I was desperate.

"Then I won't let you die yet," the man named Dearka said. "But you won't go home either. You're a prisoner now, until your government issues a complete surrender, and until I receive orders on how to dispatch prisoners like you.

I felt another sense of pain. My shoulders are bleeding heavily. Perhaps my captives realized that I'm already close to death that's why they wouldn't waste a bullet on me.

"Instead, I think you'll be useful," Dearka said.

Afterwards, he instructed the other man to call the nurse. From the way he spoke, I guessed he's the commander of the group who took over the train station, or perhaps the whole town. I wasn't sure.

Another feeling of nausea came over me, and I felt like being taken into a separate room. It smelled of antiseptic and phenol.

The sense of desperation took over me once more. I imagined the train station. I'm riding the train towards Cagalli. She'd be waiting for me back in Tokyo. I'd see her waiving hand, and her face.

The slightly troubled look on her face and her faint smile...

* * *

My shoulders were shivering.

I heard a woman's voice.

"Are you feeling pain? Is it painful?"

I opened my eyes. It was a western woman, with a red-colored hair. She had on a professional look of a person tending over a sick: A plastered look of concern on her small face.

"The stitches are painful," she said. "Just don't move so we can avoid too much bleeding."

I closed my eyes and remained quiet.

**AN: Chapter 3 is inspired by One Less Bell to Answer/ A House is not a Home (Glee Cast version) :P. (I got 13 rounds of the same song, playing all over again). ..**


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